Selfish Death
by SilentSleepingInTheCold
Summary: Harry killed himself, to everyone's shock. One Shot about their reaction's and why his death was Selfish.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

A/N I've been hit with a big time writers block for all of my stories. So I'm trying to clear it up with poetry and one shots..it worked..for a page lol. So hopefuly tonight or something I'll be able to write another chapter. Maybe my writers block is due to the fact I'm working on a picture -thinks- could be ;.; Hope you like the one shot!! It's sad, i know, I was able to write something sad for once o.O

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I tried to warn you,

Did you listen to me?

Look at where you are now,

I wish you could see.

Come back, please?

Ron had warned Harry, he warned him that it was a waste to try and kill himself. Ron didn't know though, that Harry was already planning it, already knowing it would happen, and that Harry didn't care. Harry only wanted to be gone from this world and rid himself of the pain. Did Harry even care about the pain all of his friends felt?

Ron looked around his house; Hermione sat on the couch, holding a handkerchief. She had been strong and tried not to be reduced to a waterfall. His sister was not fairing as well as Hermione was. Ginny was sitting with Fred and George, weeping into their arms as the both hugged her from the sides.

Ron himself walked over to the couch, sitting beside Hermione who shifted closer to him. "Why, Ron? Why?" Hermione sobbed, placing her head on his shoulder. Ron took her hand into his own, grasping it shakily.

"I wish I knew, Hermione, I wish I knew." Ron said, but he was lying, he did know. Harry had told him himself that he didn't know how long he could hold out, and even now, Ron found, Harry just had not been strong enough.

But I can tell you don't mind.

Lost in your own depression,

You left this world without me.

Come back, please?

Hermione lay in her own bed that night, tossing and turning in the comfort of her bed. The blue blankets wrapped around her form were suffocating her, and she wished she knew why. She just didn't understand.

Harry had seemed fine, he had smiled, he laughed, where had this come from? The worst was it was a slap in the face, showing her that she had been so absorbed in her own life that she never realized what was happening to Harry.

Hermione felt like she failed, failed at being Harry's friend. She had failed to keep him from harming himself, and failed to protect him from the world that seemed to eat him inside out.

Harry didn't care about how everyone felt, though; Hermione could not help but feel a little angry with him for that. They could have helped if they had known, right? Hermione shifted her head on her pillow, her bushy hair scratching the back of her neck as she felt another onslaught of tears.

Hermione couldn't understand why, why Harry refused to get help, refused to tell them. He didn't cry out for help, he held it in. He killed himself, emotionally and physically, that much Hermione could tell.

Why did he leave them? What had they done to upset him that he had to go and kill himself? Hermione cried into her pillow, feeling the soft material dampen on her cheek. Harry had left, he wasn't coming back this time, and she'd never see her friend again. Hermione for once, didn't have the answers.

I cannot live without you.

You're face is pale white,

You're eyes are closed,

Never to know anything again.

Come back, please?

The Wizarding world felt a wave of shock when they read the news. 'Harry Potter: Dead' their savoir was dead; a very powerful wizard was dead. How could such a strong boy kill himself? No one could think up a reason for it.

The funeral was a sad affair; hundreds upon hundreds came to pay their respects to the ashen corpse. White flowers hung all over the funeral home, coating the air with their depressing scent. Black curtains draped the windows, darkening the light, disguising the sunny day that it was. People were dressed for the occasion to the best of their ability, wanting to fit in with the many other witches and wizards.

What shocked the Weasleys and Hermione the most was to see the Malfoys show up.

"Come to gloat?" Ron yelled at Draco Malfoy, who looked like he hadn't had a decent sleep in a few days. Dark circles showed under his eyes, his hair was flaxen, no longer well cared for. The Malfoy senior held a scowl on his face, but ignored Ron's comment.

Draco Malfoy shocked them all, when he shook his head, turned to Harry's body and leaned down, kissing the pale lips. It probably wasn't a very nice kiss, seeing as the body was no longer warm, but Draco Malfoy held his head high and ignored all the stares he got from his display of affection.

Malfoy Senior seemed to accept this fact, and whisked his son out of the funeral home as fast as he could, lest anyone see how much Draco Malfoy had depended on his love for the Boy Wonder.

Your hands embrace each other,

Because I can no longer embrace your hands.

Did you think of me when you cut your vein in half?

Or were you really that selfish?

To leave me here on my own,

Come back, I miss you.

Please?

Draco Malfoy never showed emotion, but lately the depression covered his person like a coat of smoke. No one had known he loved Harry, save Harry himself. His father had realized something was wrong with his son when Draco refused to eat or sleep without a lot of persuasion.

Draco didn't realize how selfish Harry had been, taking the easy way out and leaving him alone to deal with the pain that Harry's death caused him. Draco no longer had Harry to hold, and he no longer had Harry to love.

Draco looked at the night sky; the stars twinkled brightly under a full moon. 'Does Harry see the same sky? Does he watch over me from this very night? Does he even bother to care anymore, now that he's dead?' Draco had so many questions that could never be answered.

Draco closed his shutters, draping the dark blue drapes over his windows. He sat down in his bed, which felt so empty and cold now. He shivered, even though his body was comfortable and warm, inside he felt cold. Maybe one day, the chill would go away, but for tonight, it plagued him. Draco didn't know it always would.

Harry had left him, and he would give anything, anything, to have Harry come back.

Review!! I like reviews..I don't much care if this plot has been used over and over again,I needed to write something ;.;


	2. Present Absence

Disclaimer: I dont Own Harry potter Books/Movies

A/N I never intended to make this into a story, or anything more then a One Shot. But due to many people asking for more, ithought aaah what the heck.So i decided the best way to take this is in a series of One Shots to tell the story so it's consistent, I don't know if it's anything but repeating -sighs- Oh well we shall see! Oki Answering a few reviews here.(Not all even though i wish i could hehe)Oh yeah, I wrote both poems!

**Immortal Tears of **Hmm i would make Harry come back but that would be to nice :P -feels this story shall forever stay angsty-

**Princesspepper **-nods- I wrote the poem, i write all the poems you see in my stories (well i think so far i have, if not it says so in the story) Good thing you could imagine the visuals I put in there, I was going for that. :)

**xxphatxbaybeexx **Tried my best to explain their feelings a little more, but i still feel it's a lil choppy ;.;

**lampshadesrgreat **-nods- It's kind of my story for saying no to suicide, because i once was in Harry's situation (minus dieing) and i realized how much i was hurting everyone I cared for. I know very well what your cousin went through, it's good to hear someone else is trying to fight it :)

Sorry for the long answers ;.; Here's the story now :P

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**Present Absence**

I don't know where you are

I can't tell if you're listening,

I wish you were hear with us now,

It's hard to live without your presence.

Ron stared at the dormitory beds. The number of beds was not right; there was one missing, Harry's. If Ron had known how lost and weak Harry was, he would have made Harry get help, he would have helped Harry. Ron could not forgive himself for his mistake.

He had known Harry felt like he couldn't hold on, why didn't he help Harry at the time? He had been so stupid again! Ron sat down on his bed and looked at the empty space where Harry's bed would have been and felt a tears drip down from his eyes; he had lost his best friend forever.

Ron looked at his tattered trunk, old and used. Kind of the way Malfoy had looked on the train: old, used, dead even. Hermione herself had gone to speak with him when they walked into the compartment. Ron was surprised when she sat down beside him and said, "We lost him too." Why would she comfort him after all he had said to them?

Ron suddenly knew why when Malfoy had broken down in tears, his dark yes and pale skin contrasting with the black robes Malfoy wore; Malfoy was suffering from the loss of a lover, not only just a friend. He looked sickly, and his eyes seemed blood shot. The Malfoy who had tormented them for six years was dead, replaced with a ghost of a human. Had Harry cared for Malfoy as much as Malfoy seemed to care for Harry? The answer seemed apparent.

Maybe Harry had not been lost, just dead with pain like Malfoy was. Ron frowned at this idea that shot through his head. Harry had needed to be healed from his pain, so did Malfoy. He would fix his mistake, and help Malfoy; he'd make it up to Harry by helping Malfoy. Ron would tell Hermione tomorrow that they should help Malfoy before they lost another to pain.

You left us for something less painful,

We don't know how you feel,

Do you still know us?

Or have you forgotten.

Hermione stared at the potions assignment in front of her. It was relatively easy she knew, but something was wrong in her routine of school. For her last and final year Harry and Ron were not there to laugh at her for going crazy over the essays they were set. Ron surprisingly wanted to try and help Malfoy, who in all respect did look horrible.

Hermione had thought about it, and she did indeed agree with Ron. Malfoy was hurting because of Harry's death, they all were. Maybe they could help him cope, and ease the pain a little of Harry's death. Hermione still wondered why Harry had committed suicide, but it did not help to think madly about it.

Hermione wondered if Harry cared about them now that he was dead. He wasn't a ghost, so he felt that he had nothing left to live for. Hermione had stopped crying over his death, but whenever she thought about Harry her throat would clench up and she fought off tears willing to break through.

Hermione glanced at her watch, silver rings encasing a white background and silver hands pointing out that it was 8:00. Hermione let out a deep breath she had not been aware of holding, packing away her assignment into her brown book bag. She pushed her bushy brown hair out of her face, heading for the door.

Hermione didn't know how well this year was going to go now that Harry was gone, but she would help Ron and Malfoy get through it. She owed Harry that much to protect someone he might have loved.

You're memory is there,

If your body is not.

Not many talk about you,

You never cared much for gossip…

Finally got your wish.

The newspapers printed new things; they no longer featured 'The Boy Who Lived.' The famous wizard was out of the tabloids, out of the spotlight, out of the current fame. If people mentioned his name it was in bedtime stories or talks about Voldemort and how he was defeated.

On a dark canal, lighted only by muggle electric lights and a half moon, stood a boy. He was not anything special; he looked nothing special, he was normal. He moved along the lonely gravel path as the water trickled along its slow way.

Sitting on a bench silently he admired how the water moved, reflected the lights off its surface. Suddenly he felt a cold wind and shivered, unaware of the apparition forming in the dark mist behind him. He turned around and saw the mist forming into a person, and screamed.

All of a sudden the mist wavered away into droplets of water. No longer was it mist, water, or anything at all, and the boy wondered if he had imagined it all. He went back to admiring the water, clearing his head of his simple normal life troubles. But he never noticed the content face that formed from behind him.

Maybe Harry did feel in death, but no one was to ever know that.

The one's who miss you,

Truly did love you.

You hurt them badly,

And they try to move on with life,

But your absence is always present.

Draco sat on the bench in the courtyard, drawing idly with his wand in the sand beneath his feet. One month without Harry and the chill he felt inside had never ceased, it had never grown, but it was enough to drive him mad.

He had tried to date some girl in his house, but the chill he felt just made it more unbearable to be in the arms of another. He missed Harry, and Harry never did come to him in dreams or anything. His absence from Draco's life was the most apparent thing Draco was sure of at the moment.

Draco didn't understand it, but sometimes he felt like he was being watched, he even imagined it was Harry, but it never was. He would turn his head and nothing would be there, just shadows or lights.

Amazingly enough as anything, Draco Malfoy and Ronald Weasley, Weasley for Merlin's Beard, were getting along! Ron, as Draco now called him, was very helpful in getting Draco's mind off Harry. Ron would play chess with him, which Draco found actually challenging for once.

No one could replace the small kisses and touches Harry gave him last year, with the help of Hermione Granger, hey mudbloods weren't that bad, Ron Weasley, never judge someone by their name again, Draco didn't feel so alone.

He was actually starting to pay attention to his looks again, but he never wanted to impress anyone anymore. Who was there to impress if it wasn't Harry? Draco sat up and stopped playing with the sand looking up at the stars and wondering again, 'Is Harry watching these with me?'

His response was a light flickering in the distance.

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Review!! I wanna know if it sounds like it goes with Selfish Death or just chuck the idea of continueing :P I hear Sefish Death made many of the redears cry...guess its okay for the author to admit to her eyes misting up while she wrote it hehe.. 


	3. Days Turn Into Weeks

Disclaimer: Don't own

A/N I have two updates today, so I feel accomplished in someway hehe. I love this update as well..I really think I'm getting better as I write more stories :) so enjoy! Oh yeah, Poems Mine. Gonna answer some Reviews now!

**Larna Mandrea **I don't like to let stories die...I try my best to keep up soemthing i started xD

**lampshadesrgreat **awww thankies for calling me talented -blushes- Oo i do read mercedes lackey (sp?) I really like the authors books! Ghost confrontation? Maybe in the next update I will write that!

**Mistress Vamp** -hands over tissues- Hehe I cried when I wrote this update so you're not alone :P

**InuLorien **Hmm I dunno if I want Draco to die, maybe in the end. I dunno whats going to happen, if Harry doescome back Draco's gonna be pissed, that's all I know!

**xxphatxbaybeexx **Draco's having a tough time foorgeting Harry, so I really can't imagine him in a realtionship with anyone for a long time..We'll see I'm making this up as I go along xD As always.

* * *

Days turn into weeks,

And the weeks turn into a month,

It's still odd

Even when time passes you by.

Some things move more smoothly then others,

It's almost same old same old,

But the excitement leaves,

When the one who brought it around leaves.

Ron looked up at the calendar noticing the date written in the black print. October 31st. Ron remembered suddenly, the one time he and Harry had somehow managed to knock the troll down that one Halloween. So many memories were held on such dates like this, and it hurt to know Harry wasn't there to bring a few more memories into play.

Ron had his Family, Hermione, and even Malfoy, he would grudgingly admit, had become a friend when he was not being an insulting bastard. Ron looked around the dormitory, seeing nothing out of place. It felt normal, this was his new normal.

The red and gold drapes around the four beds, Neville sitting on his bed trying to write a Potions essay, Seamus and Dean talking happily, punching each other and throwing pillows at Ron. A smile reached Ron's lips as one pillow was thrown into his face.

Ron picked up the red pillow, holding it on his lap for a second before throwing it back. "You're on!" Ron cried, hiding behind the bed as Seamus picked up the pillow and threw it across the room where it hit the wall with a silent noise.

'Harry would have been really good at dodging the pillows' Ron thought, as Dean threw a pillow Neville's way, spilling blue ink over his bed. Neville cried out, and turned to glare at Dean. Dean smiled shakily, muttering a sorry and performing a cleaning spell.

This happened almost daily, and it sometimes changed as the days went on. Ron felt that it was slowing down, because nothing new happened. Being around Harry had always been interesting, whether it was wanted or not. Now it was more normal.

Ron didn't know if he felt it was better or not, but right now his only worry was if he was going to pass Potions or not. So life was easier, but at the same time it was nothing he had ever experienced. The calm to it all was driving Ron mad. But there was no way to change the past, and Ron didn't feel that he wanted to. Maybe it was better this way.

Days turn into weeks,

And the weeks turn into a month

Could almost say it was always this same routine

Strange odds and ends happen,

Once and again.

Memories of you no longer haunt

Yet it's always at the back of ones mind.

Hermione scribbled quickly on her test paper, hoping she had enough time to finish her Charms test. She stared at her watch for a second before realizing she had only twenty minutes left and she had three questions left.

She scribbled more fiercely, determined to get the test done so she wouldn't fail it. She knew that she would probably get most of it right, yet she still felt worried. Nothing had ever changed that.

Hermione suddenly put her quill down, knowing she was finished. She set her hands on the table and allowed her mind to rest for a little bit, and it went straight to Harry. She was starting to forget some things about him, and it was somewhat scary. Time was taking over, and she was forgetting how he looked even. Just a blurry image entered her minds eye now.

Hermione used to have a picture of her, Harry, and Ron but she gave it Draco Malfoy for some odd reason. It seemed to cheer him up slightly to be able to see Harry's face, and that was what Hermione felt was important. Cheering someone else up who was having a harder time forgetting then she was.

Hermione heard the bell ring, and got up with Ron as the cleaned up their stuff and got ready to head down to lunch. They both had promised to help Ginny with some project she had and was finding difficult. Hermione knew that as she got caught up with her life, she forgot Harry a little more each day.

Days turn into weeks,

And the weeks turn into a month.

No sign of you has been seen,

I look sometimes,

Cry myself to sleep in a desperate hope.

No dreams that could be sent from you

Of course it's all a blur,

Time heals I hear, sadly I have yet to feel the hurt

leave.

Draco sat in his bed, trying to make himself sleep. He cuddled deeper into the mattress, beside the warm body of Blaise Zabini. Even though Blaise was radiating heat Draco felt a chill. He didn't feel right beside this naked body, it never felt right.

Draco told Blaise, he just needed a release, and he really had. Blaise nodded and gave him warmth, comfort, caring, and a release. Draco could not return the favor though, he felt locked up for some reason, as if he needed a key to let his emotions release. Blaise knew not to expect much from Draco except friendship.

Draco got up and removed Blaise's warm hands off his side, moving to the side of his bed and picking up a picture.

Hermione stood there, looking disappointed in Ron who was laughing so hard his face was turning red, and Harry stared up at Draco, smirking and winking sarcastically. Draco smiled at Harry's face, the one he wanted to see again so badly he would kill for it.

But he never would see it again, and that's what pissed Draco off. His dreams dreamt of friends, family, death, hope, but never Harry. It was like a slap in the face that his subconscious refused to show him Harry in his dreams.

Draco sometimes felt that he'd never get over Harry, he didn't even understand why. Ron and Hermione seemed better; everyone seemed to be over it. So why not him? Draco in truth was scared to let Harry go, because he felt he'd lose Harry forever that way.

'Already lost him Draco' he thought bitterly, placing the picture back down on the wood. He sighed at looked up at the ceiling, moving back into Blaise's warm body. It didn't stop the chill, it didn't stop the pain, and it didn't keep him from losing what was already lost.

Days turn into weeks,

Every day spend thinking of you

And the weeks turn into a month.

Every week living without you

And my month is spent with memories,

Of you.

Review!! I must know what ya think!! Ideas for the next chapter greatly appreicated.


	4. Ghost

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter

A/N Okay i finished this, its short yes, but it's what happened in my mind for some reason. I wanted to write another chapter but i had no clue what to put in it,even with your lovely susgestions!So I decided better to finish it. I hope you likes! I know I cry every time i read the end ..eesh I'm a sap! This poem is a really old one of mine, when i had worse spelling an grammar -sighs-

**InuLorien **As long as you credit my poems to me, I'll allow you to use them as you see fit -feels honoured that you liked them that much-

**Mistress Vamp **Lmfao its not fair when you love a story but it makes you so sad xD

**xxphatxbaybeexx **No, It wouldn't have becaue Draco needed to move on.

**Princesspepper **I wanted to use you're idea..but unfortunently I couldn't write it : Ohwell -sighs- In this story he's kinda with Harry...yet not lol. if that made any sense o.O

* * *

Moving slowly across the room

I'm not sure why I don't rush as always.

I feel lighter, the weight of my troubles is gone…why?

Harry walked around the room he was in, unsure of how much time had passed since he slashed his throat roughly. He looked around at the bed; it looked the same as it had five minutes or so ago, blankets ruffled up slightly, showing he had just recently left it.

He moved over to where he had been, by the dresser, but he moved extremely slowly. Time seemed to have slowed down, and he felt no need to go at a fast pace, and he didn't know if he was capable of doing it.

Harry looked around the room, becoming barely lit with the sunset. How lovely it was. Shining bright reds, yellows, light blues into his orbs as a bright red sun came up from the horizon, moving as slowly as he was.

Harry suddenly realized he felt light, as if he was floating. He tried to think of his problems but found them slipping away into the corners of his thoughts, fleeing as if they never were to return. Harry looked down at the floor and realized with a slight shock that he was floating!

Harry frowned and looked at his dresser again, where he had gotten up and his eyes widened at what he saw.

I feel a joy like none I have ever felt before.

I hear a voice like honey cream.

I look at me or what was me.

All bloody, throat slashed, dead green eyes.

Harry saw his own body, laid out across the floor as if a wooden doll. His back slumped on the wall in a way it never could have if he was alive, because that would have hurt a lot, to be bent half way across the torso and his neck turning his head down.

Blood was flowing down his throat, drying a bit at the edges and staining his gray shirt. Harry didn't know whether to be mortified or gratified that he had finally ended his life.

"Help" Harry heard a voice. It sounded so soft, like a whisper in his ear. It was light and yet cracked. Sadness, desperation, want, Harry heard it all in that voice. Harry wondered where it was coming from, because he didn't think he could speak.

And I realize that I am no longer alive.

All my hope is restored, all my love comes back

And all my hate and pain leaves

It finally sunk in to Harry that he was dead. Dead, the word seemed so foreign yet so close. He would never see his friends again; he'd never see Draco again. "Draco, I'm sorry, but I couldn't hold on, please…"

There was that voice again! Why was it saying sorry to Draco? Sure Harry cared about Draco, but Draco deserved something better then someone who couldn't feel happiness anymore.

'But I can feel Happiness' Harry suddenly knew he could, he felt it wash over him. A happiness that he had never known waved through him, making him apart of it. His hate, sadness, hurt left him, he knew it. The black cloud that had always clouded his mind was gone, and with it he felt a little less real and more surreal.

Why did I have to go through life? I could've had no pain at all

But yet this eternal bliss makes me so calm that I can't care any more.

Then the voice of honey cream, I slowly notice it as my own.

If Harry had known death felt like this, he would never have wanted to live. Harry looked at his body and noticed the chest heave and stop. His body had stopped breathing, he was finally dead.

'Oh god, it had been me speaking' Harry realized, knowing now that the sad voice had been his, the desperation had been his. He had wanted to say good-bye to Draco, and now his chance was gone.

Harry felt his soul fade away from reality, and move as if moving with the wind. Out of his room and into the bright sunshine; Harry thought one last thought before connecting himself with the world, but it was without regret, and with a calm happiness.

'Goodbye.'

* * *

Draco sat at the table, looking through a box of things he had kept in his closet. Three years after graduating, he looked at all the pictures he had kept of friends. Pansy Parkinson, Goyle, Crabbe, Blaise Zabini.

'Wow, it's been years' Draco thought and laughed at himself, of course it had been years!

Suddenly Draco came over a picture he had not seen in a long time, and of a person he had forgotten. Harry Potter, with Hermione and Ron. He smiled as he looked at the picture of Harry, beautiful as always.

Draco looked around his kitchen, window open as a light breeze came through it. The blue curtains swayed as he heard a knock on his door. He put down the picture on the table, and left the room to go answer it.

The breeze from the window got stronger and stronger until it moved the picture over to a picture that held Draco in it. Draco's graduation picture in fact. "Yes, thank you" Draco's faint voice was heard as the wizard Harry Potter moved out of his frame and moved into the one of Draco Malfoy.

The images stared at each other in the frame, then smiled and kissed. Holding a hand around a smirking Harry, the image of Draco Malfoy at seventeen brightened and smiled even more dazzling then the smile had been before.

Draco came back into the kitchen, shivering from the breeze that had just picked up and closed his window. He put down a package on the table and picked up his pictures and memories of Hogwarts, stuffing them back into the box from whence they came.

Even if Draco could not have Harry in his life, he could have Harry in his memories. Draco was fine with that now, and his package was from his boyfriend in Florida, who wanted him to have a few fruits so he could share what he had seen with Draco, before he came back tomorrow.

Review!! Wanna know what ya thought of the end, I know it wsa short but..it ws how it came out!


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